Seaweed Brain Tries to Art
by divein13
Summary: Inspired by a tumblr post: What will happen when Percy Jackson, the sassy, powerful son of Poseidon, tries his hand at art? No one knows, but Rachel Elizabeth Dare is determined to find out . . . NOTE: NOT MY CHARACTERS! ALL BELONG TO RICK RIORDAN!


**Seaweed Brain Tries to Art**

**by Ashlyn Winship**

"Now, you're sure it's alright with you if I go to this thing with Rachel?" Percy asked nervously.

Annabeth flipped her hand at him casually. "Of course, Percy. What kind of Athena kid would I be if I got jealous over something as little as this?"

_You would be exactly the kind of Athena kid you were when you _did_ get jealous_, Percy thought to himself before saying goodbye to Annabeth and heading out the door. He set out from the apartment on the way to the "thing" in question; Rachel Elizabeth Dare refused to tell him what it was. All the Oracle had said was that she would meet him at a certain address downtown and that he was, under _no _circumstances, to be late.

Needless to say, Percy did not plan on being late.

He showed up at the door three minutes early, in fact, only to find the redhead impatiently looking at her watch. She glanced up as she heard him approach.

Before she could say anything, Percy said, "Don't even start on that - I'm early!"

Rachel grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. "You can never be too early, Jackson. Now come on! You're going to have a lot of fun."

The way she said it made Percy think having fun was not optional. Seriously, this kid was scary.

"Okay, so what is this thing you've dragged me to - Oh no. No, no, nope, no, _no_." Percy glanced around him in a panic at the expensive-looking-wooden floors, the delicate easels, the array of gleaming art utensils at every table, the polished seats. The sink in the back of the room began to make an ominous tinny noise.

Rachel had signed Percy Jackson, son of the sea god, up for _art lessons_.

The ginger dragged Percy over to a table, pulled out a stool, and made him sit on it. Then she pulled up one next to him and took a seat herself. "It's okay, there's no instructor - I just rented this table for a couple hours and we can use all the materials in here that we want. Even the clay!" She beamed at Percy like he was supposed to be thrilled about clay.

"I'm gonna destroy this whole place! You can't let me in here! I can't paint, I can't draw, I can't sculpt - all I'll do is wreck everything! I'm a Greek! We fight stuff! We bash heads in and destroy monsters! We don't . . . _art_."

Rachel grinned. "If it turns out horrendous, you can call it 'Frustration' and sell it as modern art. Just give it a try, Percy - we'll find _something _you can do."

Percy sighed. "Okay, but on one condition. No. Laughing."

Rachel giggled. "I can't make any promises, Beach Boy."

The first torture instrument Rachel reached for was . . . a pencil. "Here, draw something," she said, like it was just that simple.

"What the Hades do you expect me to draw?"

Rachel shrugged. "Draw me."

So Percy tried. He really did. But controlling the pencil felt like trying to control Blackjack. After ten minutes, Rachel insisted on seeing it. Percy tried desperately to stall for time.

"I'm not finished yet!"

"Perfect! Let me see it and I can give you some pointers for the rest of it!"

He reluctantly turned the paper around.

Silence.

Percy attempted a grin. "Got any pointers?"

Rachel made a strange noise and Percy was afraid his drawing had horrified her to death. Or it was so ugly it had made like Medusa and was turning her to stone. He peered around the sheet to make sure Rachel wasn't perishing right there in front of him, just as she exploded into laughter. "I look like a potato! Or a whale!"

"You're laughing! You promised you wouldn't!" Percy protested.

"I said I'd _try_, Sushi Boy, and I can promise you I tried. But there's no saving this! I'd say drawing is not your area of expertise."

Percy finally started l, "I tried to tell you!"

"So let's try the clay!"

Percy quit laughing very quickly. "_Why _would you think that's a good idea?"

"Honestly, Percy, why do I think _anything _is a good idea?"

He had to admit that that was a fair question. Rachel produced a mound of clay from somewhere in the room and showed him how to smash all the air bubbles out. _That _Percy was good at. A little _too _good.

"Percy, chill. I think all the air bubbles are gone."

"But!" _smash _"I'm!" _smash _"Good!" _smash _"At!" _smash _"This!"

"Percy, every Cyclops on Earth is good at this. We're here to find something _artsy _for you!"

"But that's your problem, right there! If there's one thing I'm not, it's artsy!" _And Nico's type_, he thought to himself.

"_Percy_."

"Okay, okay!"

Percy decided to make a little clay spider to scare Annabeth with. He worked at it for about 45 minutes, first making the body part - _The abdomen? The thorax? The lorax? _He couldn't remember - then smashing on a little clay head. Then he made little spaghetti-string legs - eight of them - and squished them onto the body. Finally, he made two little traffic-cone pincers and a bunch of tiny, beady speck eyes - he decided 11 was a good number. After he got those on his little creation, he stood back and held it up to Rachel.

"Is it scary?"

She nodded slowly. "It's scary, that's for sure. What . . . _is _it?"

"It's a spider!" Percy cried indignantly. "What did you think it was?"

"I mean, it _looks _like a jellyfish from the pits of Tartarus, but . . . yeah, I see a spider. If I use my imagination. And squint."

"Can we still bake it?"

"Bake - oh, you mean fire it? If you really want to, I guess."

"I want to. _I _like it. I'm gonna name it. I'm gonna name him Harold."

"Okaaaaay, well, the kiln's already heated up, so I'll go put it in right now. Be right back!"

While she walked off, Percy got up and amused himself with the sink. As he alternately flooded and drained it, he thought about art. He kind of liked clay, he mused, even if no one else liked his creations. He was pretty proud of Harold.

He heard Rachel coming back and quickly drained the sink. As they made their way back over to their table, Rachel said the words he'd been dreading:

"Let's try painting next!"

Percy groaned. "You might wanna disaster-proof the area first. Do they have those artist-apron things?"

"Smocks?"

"Yeah, spocks. We might need some. Like, five each."

Rachel laughed. "Hang on, Captain Kirk, I'll go grab some." Rachel had to tie his on him because he had no idea where all the strings went - there were definitely a lot, even though Rachel claimed there were only two. Percy refused to believe that even he could hopelessly entangle just two strings.

Once they were properly disaster-proofed, Rachel disappeared and came back with a ton of bottles in her arms, which she unceremoniously dumped on the table. She sorted them into two groups, then told Percy he could pick which kind of paint to use first: acrylic, or watercolor.

Percy's ears pricked up. "What was that second one?"

"Watercolor."

"I'll try that one!"

Percy wasn't paying much attention as Rachel produced a large piece of thick-looking, weirdly textured paper and taped it down, explaining about all the different brushes. Percy, as a matter of fact, wasn't planning on using the brushes.

As soon as Rachel quit talking, Percy grabbed the blue bottle and, after hesitating a moment, uncapped it and upended it over the paper, splattering at least half of it onto the weird page. Ignoring Rachel's shrieks, he closed his eyes and imagined waves.

Rachel's shouts ended in a sudden gasp, and Percy opened his eyes to see what he had done. Beautiful blue waves, rising and falling in perfect swoops, now adorned almost the whole paper.

Percy grinned.

He snatched up the bottle of green and shook out small amounts that became islands, then added some brown to make palm trees, yellow for sand, and a combination of purple and blue to become sea creatures lurking in the waves. By the time he was done, he had created beautiful archipelago, and even Poseidon's palace under the sea.

Percy turned to Rachel, still grinning. "I can art!" he proudly announced.

Rachel was still staring at the page. "No kidding," she said softly, then glanced up and held up her hand for a high five. Percy happily obliged.

"What did I tell you?" she shouted, beaming.

"Okay, okay, you were right! Just get me some more paper!"

For the next two hours Percy painted masterpieces without ever picking up a brush. He made portraits of Rachel and Annabeth, then figured: _Why stop there? _He painted the rest of the Seven, Nico, Reyna, Chiron - even Coach Hedge and his family! He painted his mom, he painted Paul, he painted Tyson and Ella, he painted Blackjack and Mrs. O'Leary and Rainbow. He painted Poseidon on his undersea chariot, Hades on his throne of skulls, and Jupiter (not Zeus, of course) sending down thunderbolts from the sky.

Being Percy, he still managed to make a mess, but he and Rachel didn't care. Rachel painted pictures of her own, and when their time at the table was up, they cleaned up as best they could, put their smocks back up, and headed out the door with all their art.

Back at Percy's apartment, they opened the door to find Jason and Leo playing Halo on the couch. Annabeth, Piper, and Hazel appeared to be crying over books, and Nico was in the kitchen talking to Sally Jackson, looking really nervous.

"Mom! Guys! Look what I can do!" Percy shouted like the five-year-old he was inside. Everybody looked up and Percy tossed his art in the air, letting it rain down on everyone.

Rachel winced and reached out as if to catch it.

Percy, oblivious, handed everybody their portraits and chattered nonstop about watercolor. Annabeth was the one to finally shut him up.

She set her portrait down and got up from where she'd been staring at it in wonder. She walked over to Percy, hugged him, and whispered, "Thank you, Seaweed Brain."

Percy turned red and finally quit talking.

He turned even redder when Leo said, "Awwww," in the background.

But then Jason punched him in the shoulder, so it was all good.

**The End**


End file.
